


Story, History and What is Left Behind

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Characters - Friendship, General, Plot - Good pacing, Post-War of the Ring, Subjects - Culture(s), Subjects - Legends/Myth/History, Writing - Clear prose, Writing - Engaging style, Writing - Well-handled dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2004-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post RoTK. Legolas and Gimli on their travels together. They experience adventure and battle and hear a tale that leads them to contemplate myth, history and what we leave behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

****

_In which a start is made, a battle fought and shelter sought_

*******

The scene that greeted the two travellers was not a welcome one. "What are they doing here?" The question was asked with a strong degree of frustration and Gimli looked at Legolas, his companion, with some surprise. 

The two of them had been travelling together for some time now. They had left Minas Tirith after the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen. So far they had travelled to Edoras and then the Glittering Caves where Gimli planned to start a colony. They had gone deeply into Fangorn, where Gimli had unwillingly admitted he was impressed, although that was before they were attacked by Wargs, and then passed through the Gap of Rohan and up to Rivendell. 

As they had travelled they had seen much of the devastation caused by the War and so they were glad to reach the sanctuary of The Last Homely House. They had spent a while there, recovering from the journey and allowing Legolas to tell the Elves of his plans for a colony in Ithilien, before travelling on. They had passed over the Misty Mountains and were now travelling along the Old Forest Road, planning to cross the River Running and arrive in the Elven realm of Mirkwood via Lake-town. That was until they met this obstacle. 

Just off the path in the slight valley before them was a group of orcs. From this distance Gimli could not see how many there were but it was not a small group and they seemed to have bedded down for the day, it now being late morning, although the day was very overcast. Gimli and Legolas had already been told of how the Elves from Lórien had come to Mirkwood to join the fight and how Dol Goldur had been destroyed, but it looked like a remnant of the denizens of that tower still remained. And if these Orcs crossed the River Running they would find the small farms and homes of men, who would not be able to fight a group of orcs like this. Which meant Gimli and Legolas would have to.

"How many are there?" Gimli asked Legolas quietly, ignoring the frustration in his friend’s tone. Legolas had been subdued and downcast since they had left Rivendell and entered Mirkwood, seeing the devastation that had been caused, his voice that had often been lifted up in song was silent and he only spoke if Gimli asked a direct question. Gimli had simply offered his friend silent support, he knew Legolas would speak of his sorrow when he was ready. But Gimli also suspected that Legolas was not altogether unhappy that he would have the chance to personally deal with some of the intruders who had dared attack his home.

"There are seventeen, most are asleep. I believe three are attempting to hold a watch", Legolas turned with a bright glint in his eye, "Do you feel like exercising your axe, Master Dwarf?"

"I think that would be acceptable, Master Elf", Gimli smiled in anticipation. "How much closer can we get before they notice us?"

"A good way, the wind will not betray our scent to them. Arod can remain safely hidden here. If we move to that copse of trees", here Legolas gestured to his left, "I believe my bow will be able to cut this group down to size".

"Leave some for me", Gimli grumbled and was just able to hear Legolas’ merry laugh as, with a word to Arod, he made his way towards the trees from which they would attack.

The first two Orcs fell without a sound to Legolas’ arrows but the third was just able to raise a shout before it’s life was cut down as well. But that roar was enough. The Orcs were quickly on their feet and it only took two more arrows from Legolas before the Orcs had identified where the attack was coming from and with a roar they charged. The number of trees meant that Legolas’ aim was obscured but another three Orcs still fell dead before Legolas had to resort to his knives and Gimli was given a chance to use his axe. They stood apart, their fighting styles too different for them to fight effectively back-to-back but close enough that help was at hand if needed. Nine was a manageable number for these two warriors and Gimli waited for the four or five who would attack him. 

But when the Orcs saw Legolas a cry went up, " _Ilid_! _Ilid_!" and seven of the Orcs headed for the Elf. The remaining two, the smallest of the lot, were the only ones that aimed towards Gimli. More than a little offended by this, Gimli waded into the attack. The first Orc did not even have the chance to make a strike, two sweeps of Gimli’s axe and it was dead. The other proved slightly more able, but its ungainly weapon was smashed by Gimli’s axe and it’s skull soon followed suit.

Gimli turned, expecting another to attack but saw that they were still concentrated on Legolas. They had surrounded him, all attempting to attack him, and although one lay dead on the floor the six remaining crowded Legolas, giving him time to do naught but defend himself. Legolas almost seemed to dance as he spun around, his knives glittering as he warded off the blows of the Orcs. With a rather feral grin Gimli decided it was time to teach these Orcs a lesson about ignoring dwarves. He cried out his challenge, " _Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!"_ and waded into the battle again. The Orcs were caught off-guard and quickly Gimli dispatched two of them. A fair fight once more they each dealt with two of the remaining four.

Gimli caught his breath in the sudden quiet of the clearing. Bodies lay piled around them and already the stench was quite foul. He turned to his companion and noticed that Legolas was examining his left arm with a grimace. He hurried over, "You took a blow?"

"Glancing only. It is minor", Legolas tried to placate the dwarf and keep his arm out of view.

Gimli simply snorted at that response, the Elf would have said the same if the arm was cut to the bone. "If it is so minor you won’t mind me looking at it. Come, let me see. I have no wish to remain here all day arguing the point".

Legolas sighed and contemplated continuing the argument but he knew Gimli would not go on until the wound was treated. He moved away from the bodies and let out a whistle to call Arod to them, for they would need the medicines and bandages in their packs. He sat down on the grass and mutely held the arm out for Gimli to examine as Arod came trotting up. Gimli held the proffered arm gently and winced for his friend. The cut was just above the elbow, short but fairly deep. Gimli wasted no time as he cleaned the wound and placed a poultice of herbs on the wound before carefully wrapping a bandage around it. "You took the wound as you killed the first Orc, didn’t you?"

"The ninth one you mean?" Legolas retorted quickly. "But yes. With that many even the moment it took to place a killing blow left me exposed". He continued before Gimli could make a reply to that, "Come, we should stack the bodies together, although we cannot burn them here".

The two moved about the task with practised ease and soon the clearing began to cease resembling quite so much a battleground. Gimli barely concentrated on the task as he thought back to the battle, for he believed he had found the answer to a question that had plagued him for some time but which he had never been able to put into words. 

During their game in the defence of Helm’s Deep Legolas had quickly taken a commanding lead with his bow. And yet when they were separated Gimli had killed well over a dozen orcs while Legolas had taken just four more. The orcs’ behaviour in this battle went a long way to explaining that. When the orcs had seen an elf they had simply charged, only the ones who could not see a way to the Elf had attacked Gimli. Thus Legolas had only the time for defence, attacking would leave him too vulnerable to the others. Gimli tried to remember if this behaviour had been evident at the battle of Pelennor Fields or the fights leading up to that battle, but there the orcs had pressed so hard and there had been so many it was impossible to tell.

Gimli decided it was time to find the answer to this question. "You didn’t leave me enough", he complained to the Elf as they finished their task.

A smile quirked Legolas’ lips, "Six was not enough?"

"No, it was not. Although it appeared only two had the bravery to attack a dwarf", he said, placing a note of pride in his voice as Legolas helped him back onto Arod.

Legolas laughed at that, " _Ae_ , this dwarven pride. I took note, _Fangon_ , even if you did not, that only the smallest two chose to fight you. Perhaps the others simply mistook you for a shrub?"

Gimli growled at the name and that jest, "I took four down in the time it took you to kill one. That reminds me of a game we played once. Which, if you recall, I won".

Legolas nodded once, turning serious as he caught both the reference to Helm’s Deep and the question that lay behind it. "They hate us, _mellon nín_ ". He said, managing to answer Gimli’s unspoken question without actually doing so, an ability which Gimli considered to be one of the most irritating things about elves. Along with their ability to walk on snow and not feel the cold. And the slight glow they gave off in the dark. And… Gimli cut himself off; he did not have all day to repeat to himself all the irritating things about elves. Instead he simply prodded his companion to continue, "And?"

"The orcs remember in a way", Legolas said, struggling to find the words as he lightly mounted Arod and they continued on their way. "They remember that they were made from us, but they can never be us and they hate us all the more for it". He sighed. "When they see an elf, recognise our scent, they care not for plans or strategy they simply wish to capture, torture or kill".

"Thus they attacked you with no attention to the dangerous companion by your side".

"Indeed, Master Dwarf, one might say they overlooked you."

And with that jibe their conversation turned to less serious matters as they headed towards the ford of the River Running. As they travelled Gimli noticed his friend tilting his head towards the sky on more than one occasion and after they had crossed the ford and turned north towards Lake-town, he felt moved to ask, "What is it in the sky that worries you? Are we to have rain?"

"I think it might be more than rain. The trees whisper a faint warning, the sky is very heavy and the wind begins to rise. A storm is about to be unleashed and it will be harsh. I do not think we will reach Lake-town before it breaks and it would not be wise to be without shelter when it does. If we head west towards the mountains of Mirkwood I believe we should come across a farm or home and hopefully find shelter there. Failing that we must try to find a cave, we should not linger".

A word to Arod was enough for the horse to pick up its pace. Gimli shook his head at that, Arod seemed to understand more Elvish that Gimli had so far managed to pick up but he remained silent but began to search for any signs of dwelling, although he was under no allusions that he would see such before his companion. He had learned to trust Legolas’ instincts and if the Elf was sufficiently worried that he would contemplate a cave, Gimli would worry too. He knew the storms in the region around his home could be fierce, although his concerns had always centred on the chance of floods or mudslides in the mines that were his home. Being out in the open had not been a problem he had had to consider.

Even as he began to consider the problem an ominous rumble of thunder sounded and a sudden whip of wind sent a chill straight through him.

*******

****

Author’s note: My interpretation of Legolas age, as around 750, and his family are my own and cannot be backed up by cannon although there are some wonderfully erudite essays on the subject, which support my views. My use of geography – distances and name-places – is hopefully correct but if anyone notes any glaring errors please tell me, the same goes for my Sindarin. I hope you enjoy the fic, all feedback, especially constructive criticism is very welcome and appreciated.

Translations: (the language is Sindarin unless otherwise marked)

__

Ilid – ‘elf’ (Black Speech)

__

Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu – 'Axes of the Dwarves! The Dwarves are upon you! (Dwarfish)

_fangon_ – ‘bearded one’ (a dwarf)

__

mellon nín - ‘my friend’


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post RoTK. Legolas and Gimli on their travels together. They experience adventure and battle and hear a tale that leads them to contemplate myth, history and what we leave behind.

****

_In which shelter is found, dinner eaten and a tale or two told_

*******

It was less than an hour later than the rain began to fall. Although it was only mid-afternoon the sky had turned almost black and the wind was now so strong Gimli doubted he would hear Legolas if he spoke. Gimli could now barely see more than a few feet ahead of the horse’s nose and he wondered at how Legolas expected to find them shelter in this, for as yet they had seen nothing. Arod was clearly unhappy with the situation, and for once Gimli fervently agreed with his opinion and he hoped that something would be found soon for he knew it was dangerous for them to be out as the lightning flashed and the ground turned into a quagmire beneath their horse.

Gimli sighed. The last time he had felt this wet had been at Helm’s Deep but he had not felt this cold since the Fellowship’s doomed attempt to pass over Caradhras. Unknown to him Legolas was contemplating much the same thoughts as he strained his eyes trying to peer through the dark and now driving rain. The Fellowship’s quest had been the first time he had travelled with any mortal but Aragorn and certainly the first time he had travelled over snow with them. He had not realised at the time just how near to death his companions had been, the temperature drop for him had been something to note only in passing, but now his senses registered it carefully, knowing how badly it would affect Gimli, especially considering that they were now soaked through. The wound on his arm had subsided to a dull ache, the cold at least seemed to be numbing the pain.

He stiffened slightly as something caught his eye and turned to concentrate more fully on whatever his eyes had spied. Gimli noted his movement, "What do you see?" he bellowed, managing to make his voice carry over the rain and wind, a fact that Legolas was actually rather impressed with.

He made no response, deciding that he did not want to even attempt to make his voice reach that kind of volume but simply spurred their mount towards what he believed was a light, just visible in the gloom. As they got nearer he could see that he had been right. There was a faint glow, coming from the shuttered windows of a small home. A barn stood nearby and Legolas uttered a fervent prayer of relief, no one would turn away strangers seeking shelter in this weather.

They were almost at the door before Gimli too could see the shelter that they had found, but when he did he let out a grunt of satisfaction. At this moment the idea of a fire seemed like pure bliss to the Dwarf. They reached the door and quickly dismounted, fortunately the small house managed to create a shelter from the wind and they could finally hear themselves speak. Legolas stayed near their horse, his cloak covering his face, although he could just make out the sounds of voices that ceased when Gimli went and banged on the door. Thankfully the door was soon unbolted and opened slightly. A man peered through the crack, wisely cautious of strangers out in this weather, although his eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of the dwarf.

"It’s evil weather to be travelling in", the man remarked, trying to get a clearer view of the strangers who had arrived at his door.

"That it most certainly is", Gimli agreed whole-heartedly. "My companion and I are travelling and were caught without shelter. We were hoping you could provide ourselves and our horse with somewhere dry until the storm passes. We will, of course, pay for your trouble, Sir", Gimli added to reassure the man of their good character.

"The horse can stay in the barn", the man decided, opening the door more fully, while grabbing his own cloak. "But you and your friend can share our fire". The man was clearly still surprised that a dwarf had appeared at his door, let alone a dwarf with a horse, and then the wind blew Legolas’ hood away and the man gaped openly as he finally caught sight of the dwarf’s companion, "You… You’re an elf!" He stammered.

Legolas simply nodded with a small smile, he had grown used to this reaction from the men in Minas Tirith, although he neither enjoyed the attention nor felt it truly warranted. Then a woman appeared behind the man, "Gressin, what are you doing keeping folks out in this weather?" She broke off as well when she caught sight of the visitors, but to her credit recovered quickly, "Well don’t just stand there. Get that horse into the barn, while these poor folks come in and get dry".

She pushed the man towards them, which spurred the man into motion. He smiled and shook his head at the woman’s actions and then stepped outside and made to take the reins of the horse from Legolas. Arod did not accept this and pranced away, until Legolas snapped in his ear, "Arod, _Daro i_!" He stilled slightly but kept backing away from the now very nervous-looking man. Legolas laughed and called out, "Gimli, go on inside. Arod expects me to make sure he’s comfortable. Please lead the way, Sir", Legolas added to the man, who simply nodded, clearly still somewhat overawed.

They led the horse towards the barn while Gimli turned back to the house and sighed as he strode out of the rain and into the blessed warmth. He struggled to remove his dripping cloak and murmured his thanks to the woman who immediately took it off him. "Go on and warm yourself up", she said firmly, a command Gimli decided it would be easiest to obey. He headed straight for the fire not realising he had other company until he heard gasps and saw three children staring at him.

Meanwhile, Legolas followed the man and led Arod into the barn. There, the family’s own horse was stabled, whom Arod seemed to regard with a measure of condescension before turning to Legolas and waiting for him to remove the packs and provide him with some food and water. While Legolas quickly removed the packs and brushed the animal down the man brought a blanket and set out some food and water for the horse. Legolas nodded his thanks, deciding to allow the man time to get over his shock.

Soon they were back in the house and as Legolas removed his cloak he did not bother to hide his smile as he saw Gimli surrounded by three children, all clearly fascinated by the Dwarf. The woman, presumably their mother, was failing in her attempt to shoo them away.

But then the children caught sight of him and silence fell as the children stared in amazement at the golden-haired Elf. The woman threw up her hands, "Honestly! Have the lot of you forgotten all your manners? Stop staring and let these poor folks come in and get dry". Her admonishment finally met with a measure of success as the children dropped their eyes.

"We are most grateful for your hospitality, my Lady"; Legolas bowed and smiled at the woman. "I am Legolas, an Elf of Ithilien, and my companion is Gimli, son of Glóin". Gimli shook his head at the Elf’s introduction. Legolas rarely made note of his heritage, indeed he most often did all he could to hide it but the Elf had once told him that the Race of Men were generally uncomfortable enough as it was around the Eldar Race, his status as a prince would only further that.

This ploy seemed to work for the family began to relax. "I am Gressin"; the man finally introduced himself. "This is my wife Rosa, my sons Bain and Harrid and the little one is my daughter, Morag".

"It is good to meet you", Gimli said, "we had begun to despair of finding shelter". He was beginning to feel rather cheerful as they took places near the fire and he finally started to feel warm.

"I’m surprised you found us at all, we are not exactly on the Forest Road. Have you been travelling long?" Gressin asked, clearly curious as to what an elf and a dwarf were doing together.

Gimli contemplated what to say. He doubted the full tale of their role in the destruction of Sauron had reached these parts as yet and this reminded him that his companion had been hurt earlier that day and was clearly attempting to hide the injury. "We have indeed, but this reminds me, Legolas, I want to have another look at your arm. The bandage will need changing."

"You’re injured?" Rosa asked with concern, at the same time as her eldest son exclaimed, "You were in a battle?"

Legolas directed a glare towards the Dwarf. "It is fine Gimli".

"Please, let me have a look at it", offered the woman, "I know something about treating a wound, I’ve had plenty of experience with my boys!"

Gimli returned the Elf’s glare with one of his own. He had at first thought this vexing need to conceal any injury, no matter how serious, a characteristic of just Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas, but the further they had travelled he had seen that nearly all men and elves shared this trait. Why could they not act with common sense, like dwarves? "The bandage will be soaked through and most certainly needs changing. Let the good lady have a look at it. And yes", Gimli added to the boy, "we met a few orcs today".

"There is an orc group around?" Gressin asked, the worry clear in his voice.

"We met a group of seventeen before we crossed the River Running at the ford", Gimli replied, drawing the attention away from the Elf as the boys gasped in astonishment.

"You fought seventeen orcs?" questioned the younger, Harrid if Gimli remembered correctly.

"We did. Come sit down and I will tell you the tale", the children were quick to obey and the man joined them.

As Gimli spun a rather edited story of the events earlier that day, Legolas sat down on the bench of the table and, once the children’s attention was fully on Gimli, allowed the woman to examine the cut on his arm. As Gimli had suspected the bandage had been soaked through by the storm and the cut itself was still oozing blood. The woman was gentle and careful and she cleaned and re-bandaged the wound. Legolas looked at her as she worked; there was something about her that teased a memory at the back of his mind. Something vaguely familiar… He dropped his gaze though when he realised he was making her uncomfortable.

"Thank you", he said quietly as she finished. "You have been most kind to us".

Rosa smiled at that, "We don’t get strangers often so it’s no trouble. Besides, I think it is we who owe you thanks. If that group of orcs had come this way…" she trailed off, unwilling to continue that thought. "I don’t know many who’d take on that number."

"Fighting overwhelming odds in hopeless situations has become something of a habit of ours lately", Legolas said dryly. "By comparison seventeen mere orcs seemed almost restful. Have you heard of other orcs around here?"

"No, not for months. There is still a militia in Lake-town, they were needed as there were orc groups and men from the east around after the Battle of Dale and the Battles in Mirkwood, but we haven’t heard of any sightings for a while. Well until today, I suppose". The woman shook her head, "But I must get on and cook supper. Your friend can only distract my brood for so long".

"He has plenty of stories to tell, but I’d best make sure he tells them faithfully. Unless you need my aid?"

"No, Master Elf, please, supper will not be long, although I will appreciate the chance to cook dinner in peace!"

Legolas laughed at that and went over to join Gimli. He was just in time to hear Gimli tell the children how he had rescued the Elf from the orcs that had surrounded him. Gimli looked up as he finished his tale. From the look in Legolas’ eyes he could expect some retribution for suggesting that he had ‘rescued’ the Elf, even though this was the truth no matter how Legolas tried to obscure the facts. The two boys were excited, while Gressin had a grateful look in his eyes. He knew, even if his boys did not, how much pain those orcs could have brought to his family. The little girl, Morag, on the other hand, had clearly not been listening and did not even seem to have realised that he had finished his tale, as she was too busy staring at the Elf. 

Gimli sighed to himself. His companion seemed to have this effect on most women of the Race of Men, although it was most pronounced in those not yet reached maturity. And the Elf seemed unaware for the most part of just what kind of effect he was having, seeming to equate all the stares as just ones of surprise at seeing an elf. It made Gimli long to get back to his home as see some dwarven women again. They at least would not be infatuated with the Elf. He hoped.

The boys began begging for another story and this time it was Legolas who answered them. "I think it is my turn to tell a story", he smiled as they immediately fell silent and looked at him expectantly. He turned a mischievous smile on Gimli, who realised that as he expected the Elf was planning retribution. 

"I shall tell you a story about another battle we fought on our journey here. We had just travelled from the great Kingdom of Rohan and entered the magnificent Fangorn Forest. We spent many days under its eaves, until even my dwarven friend, had to accept its splendour." He spared another impish glance for Gimli, who fought the urge to drop his head in his hands. By Aulë he did not want this story told, he had been trying hard to forget those wargs. But no miracle came to stop the tale. 

Legolas described, with no small amount of malicious glee, Gimli thought to himself, how they had been about to leave the forest when they had been attacked by wargs. How ‘the clumsy dwarf’ had ignored his friend’s warnings and ended up half-buried under the body of one of the wargs, which his companion had shot. How his ‘gracious elven friend’ had rescued him by asking the trees to look after the dwarf, while he, himself, had killed _ALL_ the wargs. And how afterwards the dwarf had had to thank the trees. Profusely. 

It had not been pleasant at the time and the re-telling made no improvement. Besides Gimli blamed nearly all his misfortune that day on the dratted Elf. ‘Still’, he mused to himself, ‘ I shall not disabuse these children of their notion that elves are magnificent heroes. And they were pleased enough to hear of the feats of a dwarf in my rescue of the Elf earlier. No I shall leave them their dreams, I know the truth and I’m sure I can find my own measure of embarrassment for the Elf in return, soon enough’. This in mind he listened to the tale and was grateful that the warmth of the room could be blamed for the blush creeping up his face.

Fortunately he was spared any questions from the children, for as Legolas finished the story, Rosa spoke up, "Thank our guests for their stories, children and come and sit up, dinner is ready". The children were quick to do as they were bid and hastened to the table. 

Gressin smiled at them with pride in his eyes before turning to the visitors. "Please come and sit. We’ve certainly made you work for your supper tonight!"

Laughing they joined the family at the table. The fare was simple but delicious, a thick stew, with hunks of fresh bread. The pair had certainly eaten worse on their travels and the company was good, Gressin and Rosa, clearly adored their children and the sounds of a normal, happy family punctuated the meal.

Afterwards the boys began to beg for another story, but their parents hushed them, telling them it was time they gave their visitors a rest. So the boys turned their attentions on their parents. But it was the little girl who finally spoke up, her attention still fixed on Legolas, "I know what story you should tell, Mama", she announced, loudly. "You should tell us the ‘Story of the Lost Little Elf’!"

******* ****

Translations:

__

Daro i - ‘Stop that!’


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post RoTK. Legolas and Gimli on their travels together. They experience adventure and battle and hear a tale that leads them to contemplate myth, history and what we leave behind.

****

_In which a request is considered, agreed to and thus a story narrated_

*******

There was a moment of complete silence, after the girl had made her request. Gimli was trying hard not to laugh outright. Both mother and father looked embarrassed and worried, while Legolas was eyeing the girl with a very quizzical look. For the first time since their arrival Rosa seemed well and truly flustered, she blushed a deep red and tried to apologise, "It’s, well, um… It’s just an old children’s story that’s been passed down the family for years", she said to Legolas, obviously worried that he would take offence.

"Please, Mama?" The girl repeated again and this time the boys spoke up in support as well.

Both adults looked even more worried, while Legolas’ look changed to a wry smile. He bowed towards the woman and spoke in his melodic voice, "Please. I too, would like to hear this tale, it sounds fascinating", and he treated both mother and daughter to a bright smile, which made the girl blush and duck her head, while Rosa clearly forgot the words to use to protest.

Instead she found herself stuttering out an agreement and soon the family was again arranged round the fire. Gimli followed them, shaking his head in amusement, ‘that Elf’! Still, hopefully whatever myth the woman knew about elves would give Gimli a chance to tease his friend.

"Many years ago, near the ford of the River Running there was a house", the woman began, the tone of her voice suggesting that this was a tale she had told many times before. "And in that house lived a man, named Farin, with his wife and two sons, Brind and Dalin. The man was tall and strong and his wife was warm and generous and they were both very kind and loved their children very much. And the family lived happily together. 

One day, after they had finished all their chores the two boys were climbing the trees in a grove near their home. Suddenly, someone stumbled into the grove and fell to the ground right in front of them!

The two boys were surprised at first for this stranger had managed to enter the grove without making a sound and they clung to their tree and stared down at the stranger. But then they saw that the intruder was even smaller than they were, just a little child. So Brind and Dalin climbed down from the tree and went over to this child. But as they got closer they saw it was no ordinary child at all. The little thing had long, blond hair and pointed ears - it was an elf! The two boys stared in amazement for they had never seen an elf before, although they had heard the stories of how they lived in the trees in the woods.

Just then the Little Elf looked up. The two boys could see that his face was streaked with tears and when he saw them standing there he cried out and tried to get up. But he was obviously very tired, for he couldn’t even climb to his feet. The Little Elf sank back to the ground and cried out in a strange tongue. The words the boys could not understand but the tone was so sad that they nearly cried too. ‘ _Ada!_ ’ The Little Elf cried out. ‘ _Ada! Nana!’_ "

The woman gave another uncertain look towards Legolas as she said these words, clearly wondering if they made any sense to the Elf, but he just smiled and nodded slightly. Reassured by Legolas’ smile, Rosa continued with the story, 

"Brind was the older of the boys and he tried to talk to the Little Elf but the Little Elf did not understand him and continued to call out in his strange language. So finally Brind simply picked up the Little Elf, who did not weigh more than a feather, and the two boys hurried home with their strange find.

‘Mama! Mama!’ the boys cried as they neared home. ‘Come quick! Look at what we’ve found!’

Hearing her sons’ cries the woman came rushing out the house. She gasped when she saw the burden Brind carried and quickly took the Little Elf from her son’s arms and carried him into the house. The Little Elf barely moved as she laid him gently on the bed; he was silent now although the tears still came from his bright, blue eyes. The Little Elf had cuts and scratches on his arms, leaves and dirt were caught in his matted hair and mud was mixed with the tears on his face. His clothing was also wet, as if he had crossed the river. 

The woman carefully cleaned all of the Little Elf’s wounds and took off his wet clothing, giving him a shirt and wrapping him in a blanket; and she spoke to him softly, asking his name, but he did not understand her. He did not even look at her, but just stared into the distance, crying ‘ _ada’ and ‘nana_ ’ softly. As she began to untangle the Little Elf’s golden hair he finally looked at her, and she felt tears inside her well up at the sadness in his eyes. He did not move again until she tried to take the hair-clips from his head. His hands flew to his head and he cried out ‘ _Baw!_ ’ and taking the clips out himself, he held them tightly in his hand as he glared at her through his tears.

She simply smiled at him gently and let him keep them and as she finished brushing his soft hair she began to sing to him. Slowly the Little Elf calmed down, until at last she was sure he was asleep, for even though his eyes were open they did not blink. Stroking his hair once more, she left him and went to reassure her sons, who told her how the Little Elf had arrived.

They told the story again that evening when their father returned home. Dinner that night was very quiet for the Little Elf would not eat the stew they tried to give him, although he drank some water and soon fell asleep again. After their sons had also gone to sleep, their mother and father tried to decide what they should do with the Little Elf. He did not seem to understand the common tongue and they had no idea how an elf child could have wandered so far alone.

They knew that elves lived in the forest of Mirkwood, but they did not know where and they knew how dangerous it was to wander far into the forest alone and if even an elf could get lost in the woods, they certainly weren’t going to try! 

In the end they decided that Farin should ride to Esgaroth, as Lake-town was called in those days, the next morning and find one of the men who traded with the elves. The Little Elf was clearly too tired and upset for the journey and so the woman would look after him, while the man travelled as quickly as he could. This little, lost Elf needed to be returned home.

And so the next morning dawned and the man set out. It would take him all day on their poor, old horse to reach the town on shores of the lake and he did not know how long it would take to find a merchant and journey to the Elven realm.

While he was travelling the woman and her sons set about their task of trying to cheer the Little Elf up. She had cleaned his beautiful clothes and he was wearing them again: soft brown leggings and a dark green tunic, which had carefully been embroidered with the leaves of oak and ash. The leather belt he wore was studded with tiny gems. 

They took him into their small garden and sat down. The woman sang to the three children and for the first time the Little Elf smiled. He listened carefully and after she had finished one song he began to sing himself, using the same tune and although they couldn’t understand the words he used he had the most beautiful and clear voice they had ever heard. But after a while he stopped and his eyes turned sad once more and he clutched the hair-clips tightly in his hand.

Then Brind and Dalin decided to climb the old oak tree that stood next to the house. The Little Elf watched them curiously and when they had climbed as high as they dared he smiled again. Before they could even blink the Little Elf was sitting on a branch in the tree, well above where the two boys had been forced to halt. They stared at him in amazement, not even their father could climb so quickly and certainly not so high! It took a great while for their mother to get all three of them back down the tree, but eventually hunger won out and the Little Elf followed them back inside the house, looking a little happier than before. But as the days wore on, the Little Elf began to stand, looking at the forest and even songs and trees could not make him smile.

Farin, meanwhile, had been travelling as fast as he could, but night had fallen before he reached Esgaroth. He took a room at one of the inns and here fortune favoured him. The innkeeper himself knew someone who traded with the elves. There was a wine-merchant called Barin, he told the man, who supplied that very inn, who also took barrels to the elves, and they returned the empty barrels via the river. He was a friend of the innkeeper’s and when Farin had told the innkeeper the story of how they had found a Little Elf he agreed to introduce him to Barin, who, he was sure, would take him to see the elves. 

And so, in the morning the innkeeper introduced him to Barin. Barin was a small man, with a kindly smile, who readily agreed to take Farin to the elves, although he warned him that they were a strange folk. But they could not set out until the next day for he would need to gather his guards, for there were dangerous creatures in the forest. Once, Barin told him, on the return trip they had been attacked by spiders and had been lucky to reach home in one piece!

And so the man had to wait another day before setting out to find the elves. They travelled the whole day into the depths of Mirkwood. The forest was dark and forbidding and the horses were skittish, and nearly bolted when, in the late afternoon, a dark-haired figure, clad in green and brown, dropped from the trees in front of them and pointed a bow at them. ‘What is your business here?’ A cool voice demanded and Farin realised he was looking at another elf. The Elf looked at him with dark, hard eyes and the man quickly dropped his gaze and swallowed.

Barin spoke up nervously, ‘I’m Barin, the wine-merchant? This man asked me to bring him here’, he said pointing at Farin on his left. ‘He’s found an Elfling’.

As that word rang out more elves suddenly dropped from the trees around them, all dark-haired and carrying bows and knives. They all gazed intensely at Farin, whose fear increased as he felt the weight of their stares. ‘You’ve found an elfling?’ The first elf asked in an intense tone. ‘Speak!’ he demanded when the man at first could not find his voice.

Finally he manage to stutter, ‘Y-y-yes… Five days ago, he came out of the forest near my home further south. He’s very small and he’s got blond hair’. Farin trailed off, he had never had anyone look at him so intently before!

The Elf stared at the man a moment more before glancing upward and uttering what seemed to be a heartfelt oath. He spoke quickly to his companions in their strange tongue and some of the elves disappeared silently into the trees once more, until only three remained. The Elf then looked at the wine-merchant, ‘Thank you for bringing this man to us, Barin’, he said gravely. ‘Return to Esgaroth. You have our thanks’.

The Elf then turned to the man, ‘Come, your news’, the Elf stopped, seemingly lost for words. Finally he said, ‘You news brings us great hope, my friend. We thought our littlest one was lost’. Then the Elf took the reins of Farin’s horse and they began to go deeper into the forest, the three elves moving faster than Farin would have believed possible. 

At length they arrived at their destination. There was a fortress of stone built into the hillside before them but the stone seemed barely visible to the man. There were so many trees, bushes and flowers that covered the stone that it seemed almost a fortress made of greenery rather than rock. The Elf helped the tired man to dismount and left the horse in the charge of his two companions while he led the man inside at a quick pace. 

Guards challenged their entry but the Elf snapped a few words at them. Whatever he said made them stand aside and look at Farin with hope in their eyes. The Elf hurried them on, leaving Farin barely a moment to even glance at the wonderful architecture he saw as they passed through various corridors.

Then they arrived at a large room, which held many other Elves, and again Farin felt a sense of incredible sadness wash over him. Farin, however, was beginning to feel even more confused and nervous, however, for all the elves that he could see were tall, beautiful and _dark-haired_. Surely none of these could be related to the Little Elf? Again his guide spoke as they elves turned to look at him and this time a great cry of joy went up around the hall. 

At that moment another Elf entered the hall and silence fell. This Elf had long, golden hair just like the Little Elf and Farin was sure that this Elf must be related to the lost Little Elf. The golden-haired Elf looked very sad and his eyes seemed dim and dull. He spoke a sharp sentence to the elves in the hall but it was Farin’s guide who stepped forward to answer. Their conversation was rapid and then the Elf turned to Farin.

‘You have found a golden-haired elf child?’ he asked, as if he scarcely dared hope. ‘You have found my son?’

Farin nodded and repeated the tale of how the Little Elf had been found and how he had journeyed to find the elves. Once he had finished the golden-haired Elf seemed to struggle for words and Farin could see the tears in his eyes.

‘My friend’, he said at last. ‘My friend, you bring me greater news than I possibly dared hope for. I have not the words to express my thanks. Please, can you show us your home on a map? And I know you must be weary, but are you able to travel back to your home now? We will give you food and drink, they should refresh you. I… I need to see my son’, the Elf finished in a low voice.

Farin nodded his head firmly, his fears ebbing away as he realised that he had found the Little Elf’s father. ‘Show me the map and I will point it out. I have sons of my own’, he added, ‘I understand how you must feel, I will be ready to travel, although I don’t know if my horse will feel the same’.

Once the elves knew the location of the man’s home the dark-haired elves left the hall rapidly and suddenly the man was left alone with the golden-haired Elf. The Elf led him to a smaller room where food and wine had been brought and he found that he had never tasted such good food nor drank such sweet wine before. When he had eaten his fill the golden-haired Elf spoke again, "Come, my friend, the company should be ready to leave. It is time to find my son".

With these words the golden-haired Elf led Farin back outside of the great fortress. Outside a group of at least twenty elves were waiting, all armed with bows and knives and ready to mount their horses. Farin was led to one of the elven horses and was quickly helped to mount.

Within moments the company had moved off and Farin realised that he barely needed to hold onto the horse, the ride was incredibly smooth as the horse seemed to go out of its way to find the smoothest path. They travelled long that night and only stopped for a brief rest in the darkest hours, although Farin was not sure if any of the elves slept. 

And so it was that in the middle of the next day they forded the river and the man knew he was near his home. Exclamations of joy rose up from the elves as they approached the small house. Finally Farin could see what had moved them. Outside the house stood his wife, with the Little Elf held in her arms and his sons, who were staring at the elves in wonder, stood beside them. 

In moments the golden-haired Elf had drawn his horse to a halt and leapt from its back. With a cry of ‘ _Yonín_ ’ he held out his arms to the Little Elf. The Little Elf gave a single cry of ‘ _Ada_ ’ and flung himself into the older Elf’s arms. The dark-haired elves circled the golden-haired pair all wanting to touch the Little Elf, to reassure themselves that their little one was safe. That night, the elves gave the family many gifts and spent a magical night singing songs and telling stories.

The next day the elves were preparing to leave the little house when the Little Elf went up to the woman. He looked at her solemnly for a moment and then shyly held out his hand. She took the small gift he was offering, one of the tiny, exquisite silver hair-clips that he had refused to let her take. She took the precious gift with a smile and the Little Elf hugged her tightly before returning to his father’s arms.

The elves rode away and the family never saw them again, although for many years late they would find gifts that had been left at their door during the night. They never forgot the wonders they had seen and were always proud that they helped the lost Little Elf find his way home".

******* ****

Translations:

‘ _Ada’_ – daddy from ‘adar’ – ‘father’

‘ _Nana’_ – mummy from ‘naneth’ - mother

‘ _baw!_ ’ – no!

‘ _Yonin’_ is Rosa’s attempt at ‘Ion nín’ – my son


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post RoTK. Legolas and Gimli on their travels together. They experience adventure and battle and hear a tale that leads them to contemplate myth, history and what we leave behind.

****

In which certain revelations are made, questions asked and a conclusion found.

*******

The woman smiled softly as she came to the end of her tale. "As I said, it is just a children’s tale", she said again.

"But Mama, you showed me the hair-clip!" Morag protested her mother’s words indignantly.

Legolas started slightly at this piece of information. The look in his eyes suggested he was lost in thought, ‘or rather lost in time’, Gimli thought to himself. Gimli had been watching his friend’s reactions closely during the tale and, although the family would not have noticed, Gimli had seem the tenseness in his friend’s posture, the slight twitch of his hands, that told Gimli that this was no fairy tale. Gimli was sure that the star of this tale _was_ his friend but he also suspected that a lot more had been left unsaid. 

No reason had been given for why the child had been lost nor why the elves had not been able to find the child themselves. And most worrying of all, no mention of Legolas’ mother. And until he had answers to these question he would refrain from teasing the Elf, however much potential there was in the story for that. But maybe in a few years time, when Aragorn and Arwen or Faramir and Eowyn had had children and they wanted a story to send them to bed…

But now was neither the time nor place for such questioning. The adults were herding their children off to bed, telling them that the hour had grown late and Legolas and Gimli remained in a contemplative silence in front of the dying fire.

At length Rosa re-entered the room, bringing them blankets, which they could use to make a bed. Gimli rose to help her and the two of them turned at Legolas’ voice. "Your daughter said that you still have the hair-clip?" Gimli took note of the hidden strain in the Elf’s voice.

Rosa seemed surprised at the question, "Well, I suppose so. I mean, my mother told me it was when she told me the tale, but I’ve always thought it was just a family heirloom".

"May I see it?" There was an odd intensity to Legolas’ voice.

She nodded uncertainly and slipped out of the room while Gimli eyed his friend with some concern. Noting his gaze, Legolas attempted to smile, "This story has given me much to think about, Gimli. I will tell you the rest, though, I give you my word". 

Gimli nodded, content for now to wait after having extracted that promise and then turned as Rosa came towards them, bearing a small cloth bag. Legolas took the bag and with the utmost care withdrew its contents. The clip was small, but beautifully wrought, although the silver had faded. The clip appeared to be a cluster of leaves and Gimli knew much work must have gone into making it. It was no family heirloom, or at least not the heirloom of a poor family of Men. He watched as Legolas turned it over in his fingers, smiling wistfully.

"My mother gave me these", he said and seemed almost surprised that he had spoken the words aloud. "I still have the other, safe at home". He looked at Rosa intently, "That you’ve remembered this story so long", he shook his head in amazement. "You do me great honour, my Lady", he finished as he slowly returned the clip to her.

Rosa seemed utterly speechless, staring from the clip in her hand to the Elf in front of her. "The Little Elf was you?" she finally managed to say, her voice no more than an awed whisper. "But the name?"

"It was". Legolas replied. "’Ion nín’", he pronounced carefully, "is a good enough name, it means ‘my son’ in our tongue", he explained.

Rosa finally found her voice, "But I’m sure… You are not offended? I mean there must be much more to the tale that has been lost?"

Legolas considered her and smiled gently, "no, Rosa, I am not offended. And the tale, as you told it, is enough. You remember near as much as I", he paused for a moment and decided to continue, "You have much in common with your ancestor, Rosa. I wondered why you seemed so familiar to me". He hesitated once more and then spoke again, "Your daughter will inherit this story?"

The question confused Gimli for a moment, but Rosa seemed to almost instinctively understand. "She will", she said softly. "This story has always passed from mother to daughter in my family and I will make sure it always will". The woman hesitated for a moment, "Thank you for telling me".

"It is I who must thank you". Legolas said simply and turned away.

Gimli too thanked the woman, who was still obviously in shock at the revelation she had just heard, and made sure she headed off to her bed. Gimli took one look at the Elf, standing at the shuttered window, seemingly listening to the sounds of the storm as it continued to rage outside and decided that for now his friend needed his silence. He has promised to speak and Gimli would wait. He lay down on the pile of blankets and quickly drifted to sleep.

The next morning came quickly and when Gimli rose he was glad to see that the storm had ended and gentle sunshine was just beginning to light up the house. He saw Legolas, standing still, gazing out the now un-shuttered window and wondered if his friends had walked in his strange dreams at all that night.

Legolas turned at the sounds of his friend getting to his feet. The tension last night’s story had brought him had faded somewhat and he flashed a bright smile at his friend, "Good morning, Master Dwarf", he said cheerfully, "I had wondered if you would wake at all ere the day had completely gone!"

"The presence of a dwarf is worth waiting for!" Gimli managed to retort as he tried hard to wake up fully. ‘How could the Elf always managed to sound so cheerful at this hour?’ he thought to himself with a distasteful grimace. But he also noted the slight look of pain in Legolas’ eyes. There was still something wrong with the Elf but he still wanted to hide it. Gimli would let him be. For now, anyway.

"Perhaps, Master Dwarf, perhaps". But come, Arod has also spent a restful night and is eager to be underway. We should reach Lake-town easily today".

Deciding it would be easier to ignore his so-called friend for now, Gimli set about rolling up his belongings. The two shared a simple breakfast with the family and then mounted their steed. The children were loath to see them leave, but Rosa simply smiled at the Elf, his identity would be kept secret from her family but she was grateful he had shared it with her.

Soon the pair had travelled out of view of the house as they made their way north. They were not going at any great pace, they planned to reach Lake-town by the afternoon before travelling the next day to Legolas’ home. They travelled in companionable silence as Gimli waited for Legolas to decide to speak. It was at least an hour before he chose to do so.

"I was very young, _mellon nín_ , less than a score of summers, and much of what I can tell you of those days I did not learn until later. And my version of events does not have such a happy ending. Although I suspect you have guessed as much", he added with a sad smile. Gimli nodded to himself and briefly squeezed the Elf’s arm in support. This would not be an easy story to tell.

"It was nearing summer and my mother had planned to take me for an excursion, into the forest for a picnic. I was excited of course and got up far too early and ‘accidentally’ woke my mother and father as well. But they did not mind; _Adar_ played with me until my mother was ready and then she took me and sat me down to brush my hair so he could get ready. 

His responsibilities meant that he couldn’t come with us that day, although originally he had planned to. My mother sang to me as she brushed my hair and she gave me those hair-clips that day. She had such a beautiful voice, Gimli". 

Legolas broke off and closed his eyes. He could still hear the song she had sung to him that day and they way she had laughed as she played with him and her smile as he had thanked her for her gift to him that day.

Softly he continued, "It was just my mother, my nurse, myself and six guards. At the time there were no other children in our realm so I was used to being with my mother and nurse. We should have been safe, Gimli, we did not travel that far from home, we were still well within our borders, but we were not. 

Well-named Mirkwood was. We were attacked by spiders, a small group, which the guards dealt with but they drove us south. And they hid a greater danger. 

The trees screamed out another warning but by then it was too late. I did not know what was happening at first, just that there was danger. As the guards readied themselves to fight my mother climbed with me into a tall tree. She told me that I had to hide and when it was safe that I had to run, as fast as I could but that I must stay hidden.

She tried to reassure me, make it sound like a game. I can remember her scent as she kissed me, before she turned and dropped back into the clearing. I did as she said, Gimli, I stayed hidden. I sat frozen in terror as I watched the orcs, dozens of them, surround the guards who were trying to buy us time. I watched my mother run, Gimli, leading the orcs away from the path she had told me to take. I saw her run and I never saw her again".

Legolas broke off again, as he combated the grief that assailed him as these memories rose up again. He could remember those moments so clearly, the smell of the oak tree and the feel of its bark, the whisper of the wind, the clash of weapons and the screams. The tree trying to hide him as he peered through their leaves and the bright flashes from blades and from the sunlight as it danced through the leaves and from his mother’s hair as she ran…

He came back to the present as he felt Gimli’s hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw that his deep grief was mirrored in Gimli’s eyes, "I am sorry, my friend", Gimli said and his voice was quiet and rough with pain. Legolas covered the dwarf’s hand with his own and managed a small smile before turning back. Aragorn was the only other person to whom Legolas had told this tale and he was grateful for the dwarf’s understanding and respect.

Slowly he resumed the story; "her plan had worked. I could see my way clear, away from the orcs before they saw me. I asked the trees for their protection and they gave it to me. They hid me as I ran, from branch to branch, tree to tree, and they hid me so well that none could follow the trail I took. My father told me later that his best trackers could find no marks and the trees would not give up their secrets even to him".

Gimli snorted at that, not surprised. He had seen how the trees in Fangorn had reacted to an elf in their midst, even though it had taken him some while to admit that trees could react. The trees in Rivendell would protect Legolas from even their own masters if that story Elrohir had told them all in Minas Tirith was to be believed. Of how Elrohir’s twin brother Elladan had ‘fallen’ out of a tree whilst trying to pursue Legolas through them once. Elladan had denied the story vehemently and Legolas had been laughing to hard to vouch for either one… Gimli shook those thoughts from his head as his friend started speaking once more,

"So I ran. I did not know where I went, the trees were strangers to me, I did not know the path home so I just ran and hid, ran and hid. I think two nights passed, although all that time is blurred together now. But I remember that finally the trees thinned and then a river was in front of me. I ran straight on, and fortunately the river was shallow there and suddenly I was out in the open. 

It was the first time that I had left the eaves of my home and at first I was frightened of the wide, open space I saw, with only a few trees here and there. But I remembered my mother’s words and ran on, even though by now I was so tired I kept stumbling as I tried to run. I saw a small grove of trees and collapsed to the ground there, I knew I could go no further.

And that was where those two boys found me. I was terrified, Gimli. I had only ever seen _edain_ from a distance, the few times they came to my father’s halls. To me they seemed so strange and I could not understand what they said. But they took care of me, and found my kin, as Rosa’s story said.

I was so glad when my father arrived, until they came I had begun to believe I had lost them entirely, that somehow I had found a different world, where there were few trees and strange people. But he came and held me close. He hid his grief so that I would not be distressed by it, mourned my mother in private so that he could smile with me. He raised me on his own, doing everything he could to make sure I would honour her. He is good and honourable, _mellon nín_ , and I look forward to seeing him and my home again". With his story done Legolas fell silent.

"And you are an honour to her, Legolas", Gimli said at length. "A greater friend I could not have asked for". He wondered at himself as he realised that the idea of Thranduil as ‘good’ or ‘honourable’ no longer seemed far-fetched to him. His father’s tales had faded with the reality of his friendship with Legolas and to him anyone who could raise one such as Legolas would have to be given a measure of respect.

The two continued on for some way in silence again. Legolas still seemed downcast, whatever had been bothering him since they had entered Mirkwood, troubles him still, Gimli noted. And then he almost fell off Arod as he started in surprise.

The horse gave a rather aggrieved whinny and Legolas patted his neck slightly in reassurance, "Are you well, Gimli?"

"You left out one of the most important parts of the story!" Gimli said as his mind though back to his friend’s words. That gained him a rather confused glance from the Elf and he explained his words, "You never told me how long ago this was!"

The Elf laughed at that, "Nay, I did not".

Gimli, growled, the Elf was back to playing games. "Well?"

"Well, what?" a profoundly innocent expression was plastered on the Elf’s face, but mischief ran clear in his voice.

Gimli restrained himself from rolling his, this ‘game’ that Legolas enjoyed playing would drive him to insanity one of these days. "How old are you, _Little Elf_?" He enunciated clearly, deciding that if Legolas was going to play this game he could tease the Elf about the story after all.

A moment’s silence came as Legolas thought about continuing to amuse himself at Gimli’s expense. But, he supposed the dwarf was worthy of an answer and further teasing could make the dwarf decide to name him ‘Little Elf’ within someone else’s hearing, Aragorn perhaps and he shuddered at that thought. "Around 750, my friend. We elves do not note the years as closely as mortals do".

"That’s very young", Gimli said in surprise. He had always known Legolas _was_ young for his kind but less than a thousand! Then, realising he had made that comment out loud, he continued quickly, "I mean for an Elf, isn’t it?"

Legolas’ lips twitched in amusement at the dwarf’s hasty attempt to cover himself. "It is", he said simply. "I was one of the last elves to be born here. I expected to be here for centuries yet".

Gimli did not need to ask what had changed. He had seen Legolas when the Sea-longing took hold, how he lost his focus as his thoughts turned west. Legolas fought that Sea-longing every day, the strength of his love for his mortal friends binding him to their sides. Yet he would leave, all elves would in the end.

"They remembered their story well over such a long time", he commented.

Legolas did not respond at first but then he sighed, "they remembered some of it, the things most dear to them. Even I did not learn the boys’ names until yesterday. But it makes me wonder", he paused and considered his words. It was time to tell his friend what had been troubling him since they had crossed the mountains. "I wonder what they will remember in another seven centuries, when all the elves will be gone. Will we be no more than myth and legend, a fairy-tale to be told to children at night?"

"Does it really matter?" Gimli asked softly, as he tried to understand why this bothered his friend so.

"Yes, no, I don’t know", Gimli sighed in frustration at that honest, but confusing answer but before he could reply Legolas went on, "Men forget, Gimli. They try to remember, try to hold to the most important things but they forget, not just our stories but their own as well. Even their own history is forgotten after a time. Whereas for us… the trees remember elves, Gimli. They will sing of us even when we have been gone for centuries, they will not forget. And I think it is the same for dwarves, the stones will remember you even if they do not sing. But men forget and all is lost."

"Men do not forget everything", Gimli tried to reassure his friend as he saw what had upset him so. The destruction of the trees in Mirkwood had been to the Elf almost a destruction of part of himself, and had led him to wonder if his father’s three thousand year defence of his realm had been in vain, that they would all be forgotten, remnants left in myth and song. "Men keep what they can and even if they do forget my people have long memories. And even if we forget I will know that as long as the elves live they will remember."

"But is what we remember the truth?" Legolas asked sadly. "You and I know better than anyone how history is coloured by our own thoughts and prejudices."

Gimli nodded at that, their versions of what had happened when Gimli’s father had travelled with Thorin and been taken captive by Thranduil had differed vastly. One dwarf’s ‘capture and imprisonment’ had been an elf’s ‘saved from starvation and spiders’ and so on. It had taken them a great deal of time to come to a middle ground on the subject and it was one they still tended to avoid in conversation.

"It has ever been so, Legolas", Gimli said gently. "None of us are prefect. Something more than this… this _philosophy_ is worrying you. What is it?"

Legolas laughed at that, "I see your patience with me has finally run out, Master Dwarf! No", he continued before Gimli could make an honest reply to _that_ comment. "You are right, I am troubled by more than pessimistic thoughts on myth and history. I am returning home, Gimli, to a place that is nearly destroyed. My father has fought back the darkness here for three thousand years, my people regard him as a king as unsurpassed. And now his son returns home to ask his people to leave. What right do I have to do this, Gimli?"

Gimli blinked. It was a problem he had given some thought to himself, since he was to ask dwarves to come with him to form a colony at the Glittering Caves, but Gimli felt their problems differed in some respect. Gimli was a returning hero, if he said so himself, who had discovered a fine new place for a mine, something that other dwarves would appreciate. His kin had a history of travelling to new places and building anew and they had been exiles for centuries.

Gimli knew that the elves had moved in the past but Legolas had only known one home all his life. He had bot been there to defend it in its darkest hour, never mind that he had been fighting more important battle elsewhere and now he planned to leave it. He chose his words carefully, "You do not think your father will approve?"

Legolas laughed again, " _Ae_ , my friend, there is little that my father would not grant me. I know that when I mention this colony to him he will support it and me."

"Then what is problem?" Gimli asked, finally frustrated in his attempts at patience. "Listen, Elf. The elves you met in Rivendell thought the colony in Ithilien was a wonderful idea. They plan to leave these shores but you have given them reason to stay. They will follow you to rebuild the land there, to give one last thing to us mortals before they leave forever. Your father will see this and believe in it too, if anything you have told me of him is true. He knows that you have been fighting to save all of Middle Earth, Mirkwood included! So stop worrying yourself and if you cannot do that then let us head straight to your home so you can put these senseless fears aside!"

Legolas was silent for a moment as he considered the dwarf’s tirade. Perhaps his fears were senseless but until he saw his father safe and well he could not lay them aside. "You would not mind if we went straight there?"

"No, Legolas, I would not. I have gotten used to you singing and being irritatingly cheerful, I do not want this downcast companion", Gimli jested as he tried to laugh off the seriousness in Legolas’ tone and eyes.

Legolas allowed him that. Without replying he whispered, " _Noro lim_ ", to Arod and Gimli tightened his grip on Legolas as suddenly they were racing into the forest.

How the Rohan horse could make his way so quickly through tree and bush, Gimli knew not and averted his eyes from the view in front as they kept seemingly rushing straight towards trees, missing collisions by mere inches. They travelled for hours and continued on as darkness fell. Gimli did not know whether he should be grateful that the dark hid how close they came to the trees or simply worry as to how Arod could see but he laid his concerns aside as Legolas finally spoke. "We are nearly there, _Elvellon_ , the guards have sent word ahead". 

"What guards? We have met no guards", Gimli felt constrained to point out.

"They would not stop their prince, Gimli. They took note as we passed and whistles carried their news forth. Look, can you see the lights?"

Gimli could and stared with some wonder as they approached the home of the Elven-King. He could now see other elves as they rode towards the steps and he heard their voices calling out as they passed. But Legolas did not hear them, his attention fixed on the steps where a single golden-haired elf waited. Bringing Arod to a halt he leaped off his horse and came to stand before his father.

The two regarded one another for a moment before Thranduil spoke _, "Mae tollen na mar, ion nín_ " and with that he embraced his son. Gimli smiled as he watched the two elves. It did not matter to him what kind of stories would be told of Gimli, son of Glóin, one of the nine walkers and elvellon, in the future, or who would be telling them, he was content to be where he was now. History could wait. And with that he dismounted as Legolas led Thranduil towards him. 

The End

******* ****

Translations:

__

edain – ‘men’

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mellon nín – ‘My friend’

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Adar – ‘father’

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Ae – ‘Ah’ or ‘Oh’

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Noro lim – ‘run fast’

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elvellon – ‘elf-friend’

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Mae tollen na mar, ion nín – ‘Welcome home, my son’


End file.
